Walking out of Nat’s grip, Seven’s eyelids were drawn back in awe, his dark eyes trying to take in as much information and stimulus as possible – the smell, the light, the feeling of concrete under his hooves, when he suddenly burst out into a run and kicked over a milk can that contained at least fifteen litres of milk. The white liquid hit the floor with a splash and covered almost the entire area. He could hear a ‘why you little!’ from behind, but he didn’t care. His heart was racing and epinephrine was being pumped out of the adrenal glands, he was ecstatic, no, he was alive! Mooing happily he jumped around, kicking his hind legs out back, thrashing his front hooves into the floor, charging at imaginary enemies, and feeling the freshness of the air that circulated through the barn. Turning his head he saw that Nat was busy washing away the milk before a billion flies arrived, and had no intention of following him. Seven could hardly believe it. If this was the way to escape, it sure was an easy way out!

The days had gone by and one challenge after another had shown itself. The first and most obvious one was facing the other three calves. Hunter had taken the leader position, Dice was still a little jumpy around Seven, but Freya was back in her happy state of mind, and was the only one talking tom him. He could have done without her company and her merry-go-round mood, but it was good to know that at least one calf had the ability to convince the others that he wasn’t a mental case.